Broken Glass
by Angeli-Ii-Demoni
Summary: James Balfourd, a young science professor at Harvard, is dorky, to say the least. His students walk all over him and he doesn't do a thing to stop it. But he soon must return to the life he left behind and confront his terrible past.


"What?" asked James once more. He wasn't sure he had heard correctly. The woman standing in front of him, a young woman with dark auburn hair and sapphire-colored eyes, looked at him, confused.

"Are you James Balfourd?" she asked again. James, whose mind was still on the way his class had behaved earlier, didn't hear her at first. She was about to repeat herself when James spoke up.

"Oh, yes, that's me," he said, finally able to escape the memory of his class's behavior. "What can I do to help you?"

"Well, I was told that I could reach you here," she began. "My name is Angela Cantus. I was hoping to speak with you in private about something that I think you could help me with." James, being a science professor, hardly knew what she was talking about but agreed nonetheless. She seemed like an interesting person and, if nothing else, he could have an interesting conversation. Of course, there was a thought hovering in the back of James's mind that bothered him. If she was contacting him for the same reason that others had in the past, he wanted nothing to do with it.

James drove to a nearby coffee shop and offered to treat. After they had both gotten their coffee, James and Angela sat near the front window and Angela tried to explain why she had been looking for James.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go about doing this," Angela started. "I've never really thought about doing this before. I don't even know that I want to-"

"If you're talking about what I think you are," James began, "you had better give me one good reason to listen." Shocked as she was by his forwardness, Angela understood. The way James looked and acted was to hide who he was. She wasn't sure if he actually needed glasses or if that was part of the disguise, but the way he looked so awkward and, well, dorky must have been a disguise. Who would suspect a science professor with a ponytail to be an assassin?

"I need my ex-husband, Michael Cantus, gone," she said, each word sounding increasingly uncomfortable. "He's a threat to the rest of the world. You've seen the commercials, right?" James nodded. Ever since Cantus had been elected, there had been commercials all over every channel about how Christians had always persecuted those who were of a different faith. He had even heard rumors about invading Europe. "I can't let that happen." James, who had been reasonable with Angela so far, was irritated mildly by Angela's self-righteousness.

"Why not?" he asked, simply trying to understand her better before he said no. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to say no to her, but that didn't mean that he couldn't have an interesting conversation first.

"I can't stand seeing others suffer," Angela explained, most of her fear disappearing. James highly doubted that, but allowed her to continue. He wanted to hear the whole story. "When I moved to Versailles with my mother, I thought that we would be safe there. I thought that I could just pretend nothing was happening, but I saw on the news that Michael was planning to invade Europe and I knew that I couldn't let him get away with it. It was my fault this happened in the first place." Now James was intrigued. She felt it was her fault that her ex-husband had gone insane and was becoming the next Hitler. There had to be at least one legitimate reason for that.

"How is any of this your fault?" James asked. Angela laughed and James looked at her curiously.

"How could it not be?" she asked, still smiling a little. "When I left him, the Church accused him of all his wrongdoings. I should have spoken up for him earlier. Now it's too late." James still was confused, but let her continue so he could hear what happened next. "He never liked going to Mass on Sunday. It's because his parents were so strict, I think. They were both extreme Catholics, worse than my parents. We came into some money a few years back and Michael invested it. After a while, he got in with the wrong crowd and began making bribing politicians. When he got elected, I finally caught on and left him. That's when he started to lose it. He won't listen to reason. There's no other alternative. That's why I came to find you." James laughed. It wasn't particularly funny, but he found it to be highly unlikely that she would know how to contact him and not follow protocol.

"To be honest, Mrs. Cantus, I don't see what you're so upset about," James said, taking control of the conversation. "If you look at history, you'll see that something like this is quite common. In fact, it is a bit of an extreme version of natural selection. You see, when one like your ex-husband comes along and decides to destroy one particular faith and succeeds, he is eliminating a weaker species in a sense. I don't think that this is something to be interfered with. If anything, we ought to be sitting back to watch." Angela looked at him in shock, as though she didn't believe he was actually agreeing with Michael.

"You're saying you actually think that this," Angela paused to think of the right word for it, "genocide is for the best? You're refusing to help me because you think that what is going on is to better mankind?" Angela shut her eyes for a moment, trying to keep herself from yelling and causing a scene. "How could you possibly see it that way? These are innocent people being killed just because they are Christians!"

"Mrs. Cantus," James began, "if you are trying to tell me that you, a woman who is trying to have her ex-husband killed, believe that I am immoral, you're not only a liar, but a hypocrite." He took a deep breath. "Now, if you really want him dead that badly, you will find alternate methods. I will have no part in it." Angela, who was close to losing her temper completely, stood up as calmly as possible and tried to smile.

"Then don't," she said, perhaps more bitterly than she intended. Her voice shook a little and, more than anything, she was hurt that James did not believe her. "You're right. I will find another way around this. Thank you for your time." Angela grabbed her coffee and purse and left wordlessly.

James, at first, was relieved that she was gone. He wanted nothing to do with the lifestyle that took the life of his wife, Erika. Then, as he went to pay for their drinks, he looked at his empty wallet and sighed. He was so tired of always being broke. He paid the lady at the counter a couple dollars extra, realizing that this could be his chance to make a lot of money all at once.

"Mrs. Cantus," he called from the door of the coffee shop. Angela turned around to face him, a look of bewilderment on her face. James ran to catch up to her and asked, "How much were you willing to pay?" Angela thought for a minute, trying to remember what her limit was supposed to be.

"I can pay you $1.5 million for the whole thing," Angela answered, certain that would be enough. James's eyes lit up. That was more than enough to get by on for a long time. "Why? You changed your mind?"

"I began to weigh my options and this seemed to be the better choice," James explained simply. Angela sighed with relief. "However, if I take this job, you need to explain to me every detail, from the very beginning. Not now, though. I have to get back to the lab." James looked down at his watch. It was a quarter 'til three, just fifteen minutes before his next class started. "If you give me your phone number, I can call you later tonight or tomorrow and we can arrange something." Angela nodded and she told him her number. When she asked for his, James refused saying that it was for security reasons. He couldn't afford to have his cell phone number floating around. It was even in a false name for that purpose.

All the rest of the day, James tried to continue as though nothing had happened. His classes all seemed to sense that there was something wrong, though only one girl came up to him and asked if everything was all right. He answered that, yes, he was fine, although he knew he wasn't and that he wouldn't be for some time.

James had thought that, since it had been five years ago, that the pain from losing Erika would have faded. But now that he wasn't occupying his mind with something else, it came rushing back and hit him like a freight train. When he got home, there was little more that he thought of other than Erika.

In many ways, Angela reminded him of Erika. Glancing to his left, James saw the photo he had taken with Erika when they first started dating. It had been late at night, and the two of them had gone to an arcade. Erika had been playing older games like Pac Man. All night, James had watched her play games and, after a while, Erika asked if he wanted to play. James, who was really uncomfortable even being in a public place, told her that he was fine just watching, even though he wasn't. Erika realized that he was uncomfortable and asked if he wanted to go somewhere else. James, who really didn't have many interests, scanned the room for a game he might be good at. There were all sorts of arcade games, but none that he saw that were at all interesting. He was about to give up when he saw one that was right up his alley.

It was "House of the Dead 2," a first-person shooter in which one tried to kill zombies and such. Of course, he would have to handle the game differently than when he was working. If he looked too good at it, he could risk blowing his cover. Erika dragged him over there and told him to relax and have some fun for a change. James was very good at the game, spending nearly an hour playing it, defeating the bosses with ease. After a while, though, he began to realize that Erika, impressed as she was, was beginning to look bored. So he let one of the lesser enemies finish him off and asked Erika if there was anything else she wanted to do while they were there. Erika looked around and saw a photo booth and asked if he would mind taking a picture with her.

James hadn't wanted to take any pictures, but he agreed as long as she didn't post them on Myspace or Photobucket. She laughed when he said that and she told him that she just wanted something to remember the night. They had spent some time arguing about which border they wanted. They finally settled on an older Victorian-styled frame and took the photo. Erika had been sitting his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck and a huge smile on her face. James was smiling, too, but looked a bit uncomfortable with her on his lap. Later, Erika had sent him a copy and he had kept it in the simple black frame ever since.

Angela, to James, seemed to be the same way that Erika was. She was sweet, innocent, and naïve. She had even been nervous about the whole idea of hiring him to kill another human being. James regretted being so harsh on her. He knew full well that the reason he had been so hard on her was because he, too, was nervous about the job. It was the last thing he had wanted to do.

James sighed and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the tattered old couch he had bought secondhand. Why had he agreed to take the job? Surely he wasn't so desperate that he would return to his old life as an assassin just for some money. James tried to think of all the possible reasons. The only one that seemed legitimate was that he was worried about Angela. When he realized that was the reason why, it made more sense to him.

Angela _was_ naïve. She would go to her ex-husband thinking that he wouldn't harm her because they had once loved each other. James, on the other hand, wasn't altogether certain that a man like Michael was even sane. Someone who could kill those who had not wronged them could not possibly be sane.

James laughed as he thought that. He wondered if he was just a little insane himself. Perhaps he was just as bad as Michael. James laughed at that thought as well. No, he was not the same as Michael. He killed only those he chose to kill. Michael was a slave of his own prejudice and murdered only those who went against his ideals.

James looked up at the clock just above his TV. It was nearly midnight. James assumed that was why he had been thinking about things completely irrelevant to the job ahead of him. Whether he was like Michael or Angela was like Erika was completely and utterly irrelevant to the job. With that thought in mind, James decided to get some sleep and call Angela in the morning.

James woke up the next morning to find that, not surprisingly, he had overslept and that he had only a few hours to get ready and call Angela to tell her to meet him at the coffee shop they had been to previously. He dressed in his usual attire of a black turtleneck, khaki slacks, and his lab coat. He would have to go directly from meeting with Angela to the lab where he taught biology and physics.

As he drove to the coffee shop, James's mind began to wander. He began to wonder about how he was going to manage to work with a woman who reminded him so strongly of Erika. Would his judgment be impaired? If it were, by how much would it be? James also contemplated the possibility that, upon completing the job ahead of him, he would still want to be connected in some way with Angela. He knew full well that it was impossible, but the thought wandered about his mind for the duration of the trip.

James pulled up in front of the coffee shop to find Angela waiting patiently by the door. He was relieved to see that she had managed to get there without too much trouble. The thought that had been bothering him surfaced once more and James immediately tried to suppress it. They went inside and ordered the exact same thing as the previous day. When they realized this, Angela pointed out that the seats they had sat in were empty and that it probably wouldn't hurt to sit there again. James followed her wordlessly, choosing neither to agree with her nor to disagree with her. A few minutes after they sat down, a young waiter that James recognized as one of his students brought them their drinks. He gave James a nod as he handed him his drink and left and they sat in silence for a moment.

"Well, where do I begin?" Angela mused. James watched her intently, fascinated by her every movement.. "I should start from the beginning. That way it makes more sense." Angela closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "It started when Michael found a lottery ticket on the ground outside a convenience store. We figured it was probably nothing, but he kept it anyway. That night, the winning lottery ticket numbers were announced and when he checked, they were all the right numbers and in the right order." James raised an eyebrow. So, Michael had once been a normal person. Well, not necessarily so, but he had been an average Joe like everyone else.

"Needless to say, we were thrilled. But I didn't want Michael to spend it all on something frivolous, so I had him invest half of the money in some companies that were recommended by his father's financial advisor," Angela continued. She was gazing at her coffee, not taking a drink, but just staring at the whipped cream that was inside. "When the companies started doing even better, he began taking the money out of the stocks and instead buying most of the commercial and residential land in California. That was when we were eighteen." James was beyond amazed. How one person, especially a young person, could amass that much money in such a short amount of time was beyond impressive. James was about to ask how Michael was able to predict which places were good to buy and which weren't when Angela spoke again. "Michael was always the best in our class. He got all the good grades and never made bad choices. But as soon as he had that money, he was like a completely different person. He would mutter things to himself about what to buy and what not to buy. I was worried about him, but I couldn't do anything but watch as he slowly became worse. He began bribing Congress and the President's Cabinet. As soon as I had some sort of proof, I confronted him. That was the first day we had ever seriously fought." Angela lifted her cup and took a small drink. It was barely warm and had a sort of bitter taste to it. "He told me that it was none of my business and then he began shouting at someone else. I didn't see anyone there and tried to figure out what was wrong. We realized that he was developing schizophrenia and he tried to fight it. But the fact remained that he had been bribing government officials. I began to realize, after Michael had made no progress, that it was all in vain. I told him that I couldn't stay any longer."

"When he wouldn't listen to me, I knew I couldn't stay with him," she continued, still able to taste the bitterness of the coffee. "I moved in with my mother and got a divorce. Just after, Michael ran for President. It didn't surprise me that he was running, but it was really shocking that he won. I didn't think that things would get too bad, but then he started killing all these people just because they were involved professionally with whatever their religion was," Angela said, her voice breaking a bit. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try to calm down. James suddenly got the urge to reach across the table and grab her hand. But he knew that such behavior was inappropriate. After all, she was supposed to be his employer.

"That's when I moved to Europe with my mother. Somehow, the UN got my number and roped me into this whole mess again. They wanted me to see if I could talk some sense into Michael, which I did. But he refused to speak to me when I arrived. When I told the UN, they had already found out about Michael's plans for Europe. They decided the best course of action would be to contact you. I guess they had done this sort of thing before. They knew exactly where you were and how to reach you," Angela said, sounding as though she still didn't understand how they had managed to do that. "So, now it's your turn to answer a few of my questions." James, who wasn't particularly eager to reveal much about himself, checked his watch. He still had a class to teach at noon and it was about a quarter past eleven.

"I can't stay," James said, knowing that it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the most honest thing he had said to her. Angela sighed, figuring that it was probably for the best that he left. The questions she wanted to ask him were too personal, anyway.

"Then, can I call you at the number you called from this morning?" she asked, still hoping for some method of reaching him. James thought for a minute, trying to remember if he had forgotten to change his caller id. Apparently he had since Angela knew his cell phone number. He didn't think it was a good idea as far as his own personal security, but he wanted her to be able to talk to him if she wanted. It wouldn't be a problem if she called him first. "I won't call you all the time," Angela promised. "I just need some way to contact you if something changes."

"That's fine," James replied. "As long as you don't spread that number around, I don't mind. I don't want to have to get a new phone." James looked at his watch and realized he needed to get to the school lab before any of his students got there. "I will try to contact you later regarding the specific details of the job."

During his lunch break, James considered calling Angela but then thought better of it. He knew that calling her too often would seem as though he thought of her as more than just his employer. The job ahead of him was far more important. There were preparations to be made.

As soon as James thought of that, he remembered one of his old friends who was also a weapons dealer in Washington D.C. With the strong possibility of having to travel to D.C., James figured she would most likely be the one he would be buying replacements for his old guns from. Although he wasn't sure that she was living in the same place as five years ago, James decided to try her phone number. It rang for a few seconds, then a tired–sounding female voice answered that James barely recognized as Renee, one of his oldest friends and most reliable source of weapons on the entire East Coast.

"B&B Auto Shop, how may I help you?" she answered. Though he was curious as to why she sounded so exhausted, James decided to get right down to business before catching up with her.

"Renee, it's James," he started, but Renee cut him off.

"James?! As in Erika and James Balfourd?" she seemed to shout over the line.

"Renee, could you please calm down?" James asked, but Renee was still shouting over him about how long it had been since they had talked and how much she missed him. By the time she had stopped, James had almost forgotten why he had called in the first place.

"So, what's up?" Renee asked, finally calming down.

"Are you still in business?" James asked.

"You mean the old business?" she asked after a short pause.

"Yeah," James answered.

"Barely," Renee admitted somewhat sheepishly. "Remember when I said that the day you left, I would actually have to become a mechanic? Well, turns out I was right. Go figure, huh?" James was confused by what she meant. She didn't have many customers anymore? He thought of asking, but figured it was none of his business. He didn't want to become involved in her life or in the lives of any of his old friends. All of them were Erika's friends before they knew him and he knew they all believed him to be the real cause of Erika's death.

"Do you still carry some of that merchandise, though?" James asked, trying to keep the conversation on the same topic.

"Of course," Renee answered, sounding a little irked that he would even think she wouldn't. "I've still got quite the selection, too, if I may say so myself." Perfect.

"I may be going to D.C. for a while and I need some equipment," James explained. Renee, who knew every detail of what had happened before, seemed a bit confused.

"You mean you're going to come back?" she asked hopefully. James, who had hoped to avoid a situation like this, sighed again.

"Just one last time, Renee," he answered. "This is the last time I do this. I can't come back, you know that." Renee understood. Nearly every person who was involved in the industry knew what had happened with Erika and didn't approve of James at all.

James looked up from his desk and saw several students coming in, chattering amongst themselves. It was nearly time to begin the next class.

"Renee, I have to go," James said, trying to wrap up the conversation. "I'll call and let you know if I can make it, ok?"

"Sure, James," Renee answered. "Be careful, ok?"

"I will and you, too, Renee," he replied, though he wasn't sure where that had come from. He hadn't said anything that would lead her to believe he was in any immediate danger, so he really didn't know what else to say. He hung up the phone and gave a sigh as he saw that the classroom was nearly completely full. It would be a long time before he could get home and just get some sleep.

The next day, James arranged to meet with Angela again at the coffee shop to discuss the details so she knew what was going to happen and what to expect. James had done some research and had found out that the President was going to be speaking publicly in a few weeks out on Capitol Hill and would be an open target. His advice to her was to leave the U.S. for a few months so she did not seem suspicious. When he told her, however, Angela seemed somewhat distant, as though she was still a little nervous about the whole idea.

"If you want, I can stop everything right here and now," James offered, though he had never made that an option for anyone else. Angela was an exception. But Angela refused.

"James, I can't let him get away with what he's done," she insisted. "Even if I still loved him, I would insist that you do this." James looked away from Angela, trying to hide the smile that stretched across his face. She didn't love Michael. Even though he knew that he couldn't be with her in any way, shape, or form, it was comforting to know that she didn't still love Michael.

"Are you sure?" James asked, regaining control of himself. "Once it's done, you can't go back." Angela smiled reassuringly.

"James, if I weren't sure, I would have told you," she answered. "I know I can't go back once it's done. But it has to be done, James. You might not agree with me, but it really must be done to preserve society." She took a sip of her coffee, which was nearly untouched. "Besides, I thought you would want me to say that." Flustered by her comment, James tried to protest, but Angela knew better. "It's all right. I know the limits, James. I won't say anything else."

Over the next few weeks, James arranged to have a colleague of his take over his class while he was gone, paid for his flight, managed to convince both Angela and Renee that everything would be ok, and even organized his closet. Things seemed to be going well. Then he received a phone call from Angela.

"James, are you there?" she asked, her voice shaking. When he heard her voice, James immediately knew something was wrong.

"Yes, what's the matter?" he asked calmly, hoping that she would calm down. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean," Angela answered, still sounding pretty nervous. "But I've made a terrible mistake. I need you to stay away from Michael." With each word, James grew increasingly worried about Angela. Even though her main concern was him, all he wanted was to know that she was safe.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Why? Are you all right?"

"James, he knows," she answered. "You need to get out of the U.S. now. I can take care of myself. He won't hurt me, I know he won't. But you, James, are his number one target right now. I wouldn't be surprised if he were already after you." James understood what she meant, but he was still worried about her.

"Angela, where are you?" he asked, his voice revealing just how frightened he really was. "Listen, just tell me where you are and I'll be there. Just don't let him hurt you." Angela, who had sounded on the verge of tears, laughed a little.

"James, I don't think you have anything to worry about," she said calmly. "There is nothing he can do to hurt me, James, except hurt you. Get out of the U.S., James. Get out while you still can. I'll take care of things on this end. I'm sorry that I've put you through all this."

"Angela, whose phone are you using?" he asked, trying to think of a way to get her to stop talking like she was going to die then and there. He didn't want to hear her talk like that.

"There's a girl here named Marian," Angela explained. "She's letting me use my phone and then I'm going to erase all my calls and your number in exchange for her brother's safety. She's been kept here as a prisoner of Michael's and so has her brother, Nicholas. I'm going to try to get them out of here."

"Angela, it's not worth your life," James protested. He wouldn't let her die. He _couldn't_ let her die.

"James, they're only 19 years old," Angela said calmly, in a tone James had never heard her use. She sounded as though she were an entirely different person, like the exact opposite of the sweet young woman he had met just a few weeks ago. This Angela was strong-willed and knew exactly what she wanted and wouldn't take no for an answer. "Listen, you need to get out of the U.S. I have already made arrangements for the UN to get you out of there safely. Just take care of yourself and smile a little. It might actually be a nice change of pace for you." Just then, Angela hung up the phone and left James to contemplate what to do from there.

The first thing that came to his mind was to head to D.C. and go see Renee about those weapons. From there, he would find a way into the White House to rescue Angela and the other two she had mentioned. Of course, that meant that the plan he had originally come up with was now null and void. Fortunately, he had planned on going to D.C., the next day, so he could go first thing in the morning to the airport and get to Angela by that night. He wasn't planning on telling her why he was going to such great lengths to rescue her, but James figured that Angela would be so angry with him that it wouldn't matter. After all, she _had_ told him to just leave.

The next day, after a long flight, during which James managed to fall asleep only once, and that was only for about fifteen minutes. The rest of the trip seemed to drag on and on and, for a little while, James wondered if they would ever land. But they did, and James, rather than search for the little baggage he had brought along, decided that Angela's safety meant more to him than a few shirts and a travel-size toothbrush.

Without even confirming that she was there, James took a taxi to Renee's home, which, if it were the same place as before, was right behind the auto shop she ran. Though he was surprised to see that the shop was practically in ruins, James wasn't surprised to see that Renee was sitting on a pile of tires outside the shop, arguing with someone about a customer's vehicle. The young man she was arguing with was unfamiliar, but the fact that she was arguing with someone else was not surprising in the slightest. James, although he hated doing so, waited patiently for Renee to finish bossing the young man around before he approached her. When he did, Renee jumped up and squealed with happiness. James realized that she had cut her hair off and dyed it dark brown, as opposed to her original blonde hair that came down to her waist.

"James! James! Oh my gosh, James, you're really actually here!" she shouted, running up to give him a hug. James had to admit that it was actually nice to see her again, though he understood that the circumstances made it more bitter than it ought to have been. Remembering those circumstances, James pulled Renee off him.

"Renee, I would love to catch up, but there's no time," James said. Renee led him around the back of the shop to her house and James explained the whole situation. When James finished, Renee looked as though she wanted to go with James. She asked if he thought he would need help, but he didn't want anyone else involved in the battle.

"You'll need some good, sturdy weapons, then," Renee said with a smile. She led James into a room in the back of the house. James remembered all too well what was in that room. Every kind of weapon, from swords to machine guns, could be found in that room. James preferred to use the most discreet guns for his work, but at this point he was willing to use a regular handgun. He was sure he would find what he needed there.

The sight that greeted James, however, was a sorry one. The shelves that once were home to at least fifteen weapons apiece, now only held five or less. Most of what was left was legal and quite unreliable. As James browsed the shelves, he found the only gun he trusted completely. It was built like a handgun, but it could hold shot gun shells as well as regular bullets. In a sense, it was the greatest multi-purpose gun a person could buy.

"Just this one," James said, holding out the one he had chosen. Renee nodded, taking note of the one he picked.

"As per usual, don't pay until you finish the job," she said, trying not to think of the possibility that he might not come back. "And, please, be careful. I know you care about Angela, but please don't let me see your last name in the papers again."

"You'll get the money for this, Renee," James said, trying not to seem as though he, too, thought he wouldn't make it out alive. "I'll see you in a while." James said, putting the gun away in his book bag.

"Yeah, see you soon," Renee said, watching as he left. As his taxi pulled away, James began to think of what would happen if he were to fail, if rescuing Angela didn't work. How many people would suffer? He knew that Angela's life was dependent on whether he failed. Renee needed the money he owed her for the gun. But who would really miss him? It seemed as though no one would and that maybe, just maybe, this was what happened to people who didn't socialize. They weren't remembered or missed.

Later that night, when James arrived at the White House, he realized that it looked strangely dark. It made breaking in easier, but it also made him paranoid of his surroundings. Any shadow he couldn't see could have been a guard and anything that moved was an enemy.

He made his way through hallways, trying to remember all the places he had been so far. As far as he could tell, everyone was gone. Then James went into a room that would have been beautiful if not for the dead guards all over the floor and desk. It appeared to be a massacre. Knowing what it was like to lose a loved one, James felt horrible for their families.

As James made his way through the mess, something caught his eye. It was a cross-shaped necklace on a silver chain. Angela had worn one exactly like it when he had seen her last. James knew, then, that he was getting close to finding them. Then, out of nowhere, he heard gunshots coming from the upstairs.

Without even pausing to think, he ran up and down the halls, looking for a way to get to where he heard the gunshots coming from. He found a flight of stairs and followed it up to the top floor, where he heard several more gunshots and a woman scream. It was coming from the room at the end of the hall. James sprinted there and burst through the door to find Angela and two others trapped in a corner. Directly opposite was Michael, who had the appearance of a rabid dog. He appeared to be beyond reasoning, beyond any intelligent communication. James knew exactly how to handle him.

"Angela, go, get out of here," James shouted. Angela, who was obviously the calmest of the three, protested.

"I'm not leaving you to fight this battle alone, James," she argued. James appreciated the offer, but he couldn't afford to risk her safety.

"Just go," he insisted. "I need you to be safe, Angela." Realizing that there was little she could do to convince James to let her stay, Angela nodded and led the two others outside. Michael looked on as they left, not even bothering to go after them.

"You're here at last," Michael said. "I was getting tired of Angela's games. You, on the other hand, are quite the catch. I've heard about you from many, many people." Michael walked calmly towards James. "I knew you would come, James. You're too kind, too weak. Or, at least that's what your wife thought." Michael laughed as he saw James's expression change from unreadable and focused to wounded and angry. "Yes, I knew Erika. Perhaps even better than you did. You can see exactly what sort of person someone is when they're dying."

James had enough. There was nothing else he needed to hear. He pulled the gun he had purchased from Renee and opened fire on Michael. The first two shots missed. The moment they did, Michael pulled his own weapon from his back pocket, a small silver revolver, and fired three shots at James, all of which James managed to avoid by diving behind a nearby desk.

"She didn't mention that you were a coward, though," Michael commented. "I guess that's because she didn't know what you were, did she?" James tried not to listen, not to let himself think of when he had discovered Erika dead in their apartment. "But I knew. I knew what you were from the look in her eyes. See, that's the thing Angela doesn't know. I wasn't just bribing Congress, I was the one threatening to kill them if they didn't. People are such gullible fools at heart, really. All you have to do is offer them money or threaten their family." James, who had remained behind the desk the whole time, knew that it was true, even though he wanted to believe that people were essentially good, just as Angela did. "Erika, though, she didn't give in even when I told her that the only reason she was going to die was because I needed you out of the picture. Killing you yourself was too difficult. You were virtually untraceable. It took me years to even find where you stashed her away. Erika, she was much like Angela is now. I pointed this gun at her and told her she was going to die and she just smiled at me and told me that she was all right with that. She told me that she pitied me! Can you imagine that? She pities me!" Michael laughed sinisterly. "Why would anyone have a reason to pity me? I am the president of the strongest country in the world. Without us, the world would be nothing. And now I will be able to control the masses without interference."

Michael kicked the desk that James had been hiding behind over, and James bolted out of the way. However, there was nowhere else he could fire safely from. James realized that he had virtually no chance of making it out unscathed and decided, against his better judgment, to open fire on Michael right then and there. The first shot skimmed Michael's arm, the second went directly into his shoulder. Michael, however, just laughed.

"He doesn't see, does he?" he asked, still laughing. "We can't be killed! It's impossible to stop us!" Michael, whose movement didn't seem to be impaired at all by the bullet in his shoulder, fired at Michael, who dove onto the ground. The bullet skimmed his leg and as James tried to block out the pain, Michael came closer. "You cannot possibly win, James. I cannot die!" Michael aimed the gun directly at James's head and there was a sudden gunshot. James shut his eyes, expecting to feel an excruciating pain in his head, but when he opened his eyes, Michael had toppled over, dead. Behind him was Angela. She held in her hand a small handgun, one that appeared to be of the same kind issued to police officers.

"James?" she called, hoping that she wasn't too late. James, who had never come that close to being killed, sat up, trying to stop the bleeding from where the bullet had skimmed his leg. "James, are you all right?" Angela came running up to him and she tore off a part of her shirt to wrap around his leg to put pressure on it. "Did he hurt you, James?" James shook his head and tried to stand. It was painful, but not the worst pain he had felt that evening. "James, I am so sorry. I should never have left you here alone."

"Don't be silly," James said, taking a few feeble steps. "You couldn't have made any difference." Angela, who was right behind him, shook her head.

"I could have made all the difference, James," she argued. "James, I could have stopped this all from happening." James turned to face her, afraid of what else she had to say. What if she was right? "James, I haven't been completely honest with you." Angela sighed. "I was hired by the UN to find you, but I came to the UN of my own volition. You see, I was a member of a secret group that was formed to watch the actions of the president. The group was there ever since the Constitution was written. We've watched for the past three centuries, making certain that nothing happened. We were trying to figure out what to do with Michael when he began to find out about us." Angela looked away from James, trying to remember exactly how it had happened. "Many of us were discovered. I lost many good friends because of Michael. He raided our hideout and hunted down most of us. The only survivors are myself and two others. We went from a group of hundreds to just three. I haven't heard from the others. I'm not even sure they're still alive." James tried to think of something to say to comfort her, but nothing came to mind. "When we realized that there was no way to stop Michael without international help, I was sent to the UN to see if anyone would aid us. But none of the countries being represented were willing to go to war for us. Instead, they offered to pay us to find an assassin who would be able to finish Michael. I remembered seeing your name in Michael's paperwork and told them that I had just the person in mind. But when I reached you, I couldn't do anything to convince you except offer you the entire amount we had been given. I knew why and didn't press the matter." She knew? She knew the whole time that he had retired because of Erika? But how did she know?

"I knew the whole time that Michael was the one behind Erika's death," Angela explained. "I didn't want to tell you because it might have compromised the mission. But that was the biggest mistake I could have made. I didn't know." James, who had heard enough of her story to know that he had been completely and utterly used, decided that was his cue to leave. He didn't want to hear any more from Angela. Angela didn't even try to stop him as he limped away, out the door and out of her life.

James returned to teaching science later, after his injury had healed enough to conceal. All of his students seemed to notice something had changed about him. James no longer allowed his students to walk all over him. He instead created a strict policy about turning in work that stated that any work turned in late would lose half its point value and would decrease by ten percent for each additional day it was late. Nearly every student complained, but they learned to do their work on time.

Everything was normal. Then, one day James's phone rang and when he answered, he heard Angela's voice on the other line. He had almost completely forgotten about her, though it was his choice to do so. Because of the way things had ended that night, he had wanted to forget about her and everything he had ever thought about her.

"James, can you meet me at the café you took me to before?" she asked tentatively, as though she were certain he was going to hang up on her. James contemplated the idea. He certainly didn't want to take on another job like before, but he did feel as though things had ended badly between them and he did want to at least set things right. He agreed to meet her there around 10 A.M. and hung up the phone.

When he arrived, he was a bit surprised to see Angela had already ordered for them and was sitting at the same table he had met her at before. He sat down and looked at her, wondering why she had contacted him. Angela, who had been hoping he wouldn't still be angry with her, avoided his glance. When neither of them spoke for a while, Angela began to think it was a stupid idea to call him. James, however, waited patiently for her to speak.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked, trying to break the silence. Angela looked up from her drink, confused. She had expected him to be angry with her.

"I could be better," she admitted. James nodded. He had heard about the attempt to restore the U.S. to its former glory. Angela was at its head, leading the group through all the hardships that came with any restoration. "But, I didn't come here to discuss that." Angela took a deep drink of her coffee and resumed where she had left off. "How are things with you right now?"

"I'm actually doing pretty well, considering the fact that our economy is failing," James answered with a slight smile. "People are trying to find new ways to get by and for most people, that means going to college."

"I see," Angela said, taking another drink of her coffee. "Never mind then."

"What do you mean by that?" James asked curiously. Angela shook her head.

"It's nothing, James," she answered, not wanting him to know the truth.

"It has to be something," he prompted. "What?" Angela looked at him and saw that he wasn't going to let it go. She let loose a sigh and explained.

"I was going to ask if you would be willing to help us out," she answered, "but I see that things are going well for you. I'll find someone else." Angela stood up and thanked him for at least meeting with her. "I'm sorry I wasted your time." She was about to leave when James called for her to wait.

"I didn't say I wouldn't help you," he said as Angela sat back down. "But what is it exactly that you wanted me to do?" Angela, who hadn't really thought it through yet, turned red. She had mostly wanted to be around him more.

"I-I don't know yet," she admitted. Then she realized why he had asked and added, "Nothing like last time, though." James smiled. He could handle that. "I just thought that we could use more people and I couldn't think of anyone else."

"Well, I don't know if I can leave my job," James started and Angela interrupted.

"You don't have to," she said. "I was just hoping that you would help out whenever we needed it." James, who didn't mind so much that he had been interrupted, nodded.

"I guess that would be all right, then," he agreed and Angela gave a huge smile. James began to wonder if things would ever pick up between them. The more he saw her smile, the more he hoped so. He didn't know what the future held in store for them. Does anyone?


End file.
